That doesn't sound good.
But it is true.
I really don't.
I have my husband, who I tell most everything to. There are positives and negatives to that. Positive, because we are close and I at least have one person to vent to. Negative because I start to see him as a girlfriend and not a husband.
I guess on the outside you would think I have a lot of friends. I have people I see regularly. I'm friendly, know people almost everywhere I go, can talk with almost everyone there is. Yet, when I have a moment when I want to pick up the phone, call someone and cry-- there's nobody to call.
I'm sure this is a burden for my husband, too. So as much as I wish I didn't have to talk to him about things, I'm sure he wishes the same, too. To some extent. Some of it (a lot really) is parenting stuff, which is good to discuss with your spouse.
My mother is there 50% of the time. If I call and really really need to vent to her, she'll listen. She'll be there. But she can be hot and cold about it. She's moved away, and phone conversations are nothing like face-to-face.
It's a sick position to be in. I feel entirely alone, even though there are people all around me.
I've lost a few pounds.
Ask me if I care. I do. I care. It would just be more discouragement if the scale were going up instead of slightly leaning downward. So that's a HUGE positive. I have so much discouragement in my life right now that I don't really need more.
If you've read this at all you'd know that I have ups and downs and fight depression a lot. This is one of those times. This is a time where I'd love to hole up with a bottle, pills or something and go into a coma for about a month.
(And lack thereof.)
I guess along with blessings come pain and trials. My finances are horrible. We can't keep up. School costs, food, gas, bills, cars... they are engulfing us. My husband will work extra just to make ends meet. Surely we aren't alone in that. I feel like a widow, going through all of this alone. I'm thankful for him taking on extra work, but I'm paralyzed by the overwhelming task of doing everything else.
It's not a good day today. My goal is to keep my head up. Period. That's it. To not jump off a cliff. To grasp the positive with bloody fingers, and not let it slip out of my hands.
I have family to worry about, kids to feed. A body of abundance, well fed and nourished. A car to drive to the store. A stove to cook dinner on. A bed to sleep in, washer to clean our clothes. Lotion to put on my dry skin. My mother is alive.
My blessings are bountiful. My blessings are bountiful. My blessings... bountiful.